(*unedited* surprise surprise... ಥ_ಥ)

✧･ﾟ: * thirteen *:･ﾟ✧

"Okay, first we need to get the sauce cooking. Do you have a pot out?"

Madeline hears a lot of clanking before Tae murmurs, "Yes."

The two agreed on spaghetti, which Tae had to look up the translation for and still wasn't quite sure what she was talking about. Spaghetti is quick and simple, though, and Madeline still remembers her mother's recipe by heart. Granted, she hasn't had this homemade spaghetti since before her father left, but she remembers loving it. She would ask for it every Friday.

She opens the package of ground beef in the sink, then instructing Tae to place it in the pot and to turn the heat on low. She suspects he does it correctly because he doesn't ask for clarification. Dumping the cans of crushed tomatoes is easy as well, Tae giggling when a bit of the sauce splatters onto Madeline's cheek. He wipes it off with his thumb, and suddenly Madeline's body stiffens and her heart falters. She hurries back over to their supplies before the moment gets any tenser.

"It's bubbling, right?" she asks, clearing her throat. When Tae confirms, she says, "Right. Time for spices. Since we forgot measuring utensils, we'll have to wing it. I trust you, okay?"

"You can trust me," Tae agrees.

It's quite a difficult task. Tae can't quite depict which spice is which, and he keeps asking her if it's too much before he apologizes when he remembers she can't tell. He seems flustered about it, even sounding a little defeated, so Madeline tries to make it light-hearted and assures him it doesn't have to be perfect. However, she fears she may be picking basil out of her teeth the rest of the night with the worried gasp she just heard.

"I'm sure it's fine," she says, rubbing her forehead. He's trying his hardest, she can tell. She can endure some over-seasoned spaghetti sauce for his sake. "Let's get the water boiling for the noodles."

The two get a second, smaller pot filled a little over halfway with water then Tae sets it on the stove.

"Now?" he asks, shaking the box of noodles.

She smirks. "No, not now."

It's the third time he's asked in the past five minutes.

A short silence. And then—

"Now?"

"Tae," she says with a laugh. "Do you see bubbles?"

"Uh, no."

"Then it's not ready."

"I don't want to... mess up," he says with a frown.

"It's fine," she assures him. "This isn't a test or anything. It's just cooking. You're doing really good."

Tae clicks his tongue in response, scolding himself mentally.

He only wants to do something right for once.

Madeline smiles a little to herself, wishing she could see the pout that's undoubtedly on his face. Oddly enough, she doesn't try to picture his face anymore like she used to spend an abundant amount of time doing. She's gotten used to just not knowing. Or, more accurately, she's realized she doesn't particularly care.

"Oh," he gasps in awe. "I see bubbles!"

"Now pour the noodles in," she instructs, hearing the noodles slide out of the box a moment later. "Turn the heat down just a little so it doesn't overflow, okay?" She waits to see if she needs to reiterate herself, but he confirms with applause for himself when he does so.

"Ten minutes," she tells him.

"Ten minutes," he repeats. "Okay."

Madeline runs her hand along the cabinets, searching each one until she finds a couple of bowls for them to use. She rinses them in the sink—who knows how long they've been in the cabinet or who used them last—then instructs Tae to fill each bowl with noodles. No particular amount. He seems relieved at that.

"Oh!" she exclaims, snapping her fingers. "We forgot to put the bread in the oven. You can't have spaghetti without breadsticks."

Tae sets the oven's temperature with moderate difficulty, and when Madeline offers to place them in the oven he clicks his tongue in disapproval, gently pushing her back while telling her she could burn herself. He sets the timer for the proper time—or at least he says he does—then he suggests Madeline go sit down so he can serve the food.

She doesn't bother arguing. Arguing with Tae is practically impossible. She shuffles her way to the little table at the edge of the kitchen where the tile meets the carpet of the living room, placing herself in the seat that's back against the wall. The table is a bit small, which is expected when it's only one bedroom with the rest of the space connected.

Soon enough, she hears the click of the bowl being set on the table in front of her, then Tae's chair sliding out as he sits across her. She leans down to sniff the spaghetti, smiling when it smells exactly how she remembers. However, there is a bit more of a rosemary scent than normal, but that's okay. Rosemary smells good anyways.

"Wait," Tae says just as the oven's timer goes off.

The chair slides back again, his footsteps disappearing momentarily. Then the aroma of breadsticks wafts upwards to her face, her eyes closing with content. She would marry breadsticks if she could.

Tae scoots his chair back in. "Okay. You try it first."

She finds her fork, twirls it in the spaghetti, blows it off, then puts it in her mouth. She's actually pleasantly surprised. There's definitely more rosemary than there should be, but it doesn't completely ruin the taste. The surprise must show on her face because Tae worriedly asks, "Bad?"

"No," she says quickly. "It's not bad. You did a really good job, Tae."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Taste it."

While he does so, she takes a bite of the breadstick, thoroughly relieved those hadn't been messed up either. He really has been paying more attention. She feels proud almost... There's such a strange mix of emotions inside of her that she can't quite explain.

Tae makes a long "mmm" sound before murmuring, "Jeongmal mashisseo."

"What does that mean?"

"Eh?"

"You spoke in Korean just then."

"Oh, sorry, sorry."

"No, it's okay. I just want to know what it means."

Tae is quiet a moment. "What... did I say?"

Madeline stifles her laughter. He was either caught up in it being really good or really bad to not remember. "Something like... Jong-mal-mash... That's so bad, I'm so sorry I embarrassed your language."

Tae chuckles, repeating what he said earlier. "Means, uh, it's very deli...?"

"Delicious?"

"Yes. Very delicious." He's quiet again before he says, "I want to make this for my... family."

"I'll tell you how again while you write it down," she suggests, motioning the action in case he doesn't understand.

"Thank you," he says. "But later."

Madeline chews her bottom lip, a thought she had earlier resurfacing. She told herself she doesn't care about how he looks, and she honestly doesn't. He's not an old man, which is really her biggest concern, and he doesn't have bad body odor. Quite the opposite, actually. She just wants to have an idea of what to picture to match with his voice, she supposes. Just a small inkling as to who she's been spending the past week with.

She sets down her fork, her cheeks already heating up from how embarrassing this is going to be. She pushes those thoughts deep down, though. The worst that can happen is he'll say no, and she'll understand that. It's creepy to feel someone's face, right? She definitely wouldn't want anyone prodding at hers.

But... she just wants to... caress him? That's even creepier. Especially after the incident earlier at the pier. He probably doesn't want her that close. Still, she can't help her curiosity. Is it normal to be this curious? She's never cared about touching someone's cheeks before. Will his cheeks be soft? Bony? Chubby? Covered in acne?

She doesn't care. She just wants to know.

"Maddie?" he asks softly, making her inhale a breath. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm fine. I just... never mind."

"I know that word now," he states proudly. "I want you to tell me... okay?"

She lets out an exaggerated breath, contemplating her options. Eat and act like she's not dying to know his bone structure and how long his hair is? Yes. Yes, that's what she should do.

For some reason, though, she doesn't.

She swallows her nervousness, scooting her chair around the circlular table closer to him. She feels his sleeve brush against her arm, her ears going hot just from being so close. This is absolutely ridiculous. She barely knows him.

Treat him like anyone else, stupid.

But he's not like anyone else, so why should she treat him that way?

She hears his fork clank against the bowl as he sets it down. She sucks in a deep breath. "Tae..." God, how do you even word such a question?

Oh yeah, man, can I just like stroke your face for a minute or two?

She cringes at herself.

Then she stiffens when his hand lays on top of hers.

"It's okay," he says, barely above a whisper.

It's not exactly permission since she didn't ask, but him saying that lets her know that he trusts her. She doesn't have to be afraid that he'll judge her. Out of all the people in the world, Madeline can't imagine anyone else would quite understand like he does.

She slides her hand out from under his, reaching both of hers up to his shoulders. She hasn't gone past his shoulders. This time, however, she lets her hands glide up his neck, barely touching his skin as if he could burn her. Tae is particularly quiet. She can't even hear his breaths despite how hard she listens for them.

She finds his jawline first, for some reason amazed at how prominent it feels. She hesitates, her hands hovering over his cheeks, then she gently cups them, his soft skin warm against her palms. Or it could be her anxiety making them feel so warm. She's dying of humiliation right now. Even so, her curiosity wins out.

His cheeks are chubby, but they almost feel like a baby's. Adorable cheeks. That's what they are.

The only indication that he's still living is the breath she feels on her thumb from under his nose. She touches him as softly as she can, trailing up the bridge of his nose to the edge of his hair, which happens to be incredibly soft just like the rest of him. He has some curls in his hair, but he's pushed them back with a headband.

Her fingers trace along the sides of his face, back down to his chin. Her thumb accidentally brushes against his lower lip, her heart pounding furiously in her ears. She wants to apologize, but for some reason she can't find the nerve to speak.

"Maddie," Tae whispers, his deep voice sending chills down her spine along with a flush in her already burning cheeks. "I'm sorry."

This snaps her out of her humiliation long enough to be confused. "For what?"

"For..." He's either scared to say it or thinking of the word. "K-kissing you."

Yup. There's the humiliation again.

She knows if she speaks, she'll stutter. She knows she'll tell him she knows it wasn't intentional and that they can pretend it never happened, like she did earlier tonight. But she doesn't want to say that. She doesn't want to pretend it didn't happen, as silly as that sounds. It was painful the way their mouths were forced together, but they were still together and Madeline shouldn't still be thinking about it.

Instead of stammering over her words, she steals her nerve and runs her thumb along his lip again, intentionally this time. She feels his breath catch. She doesn't know if she's about to make the dumbest mistake of her life or possibly the best opportunity she'll ever have.

She cups his cheeks again.

Then she kisses him.

She waits, dreadfully, for him to pull away. To tell her she's crazy for thinking he would like someone that can't see him. Crazy for liking someone so much only after a week of knowing about their existence. How stupid and foolish of her it is to think this way when inevitably they'll part ways, probably without ever seeing each other again.

But he doesn't.

He doesn't pull away. He doesn't call her crazy, stupid, or foolish.

Madeline can't quite believe it when he wraps his arms around her middle, gently pulling her closer.

When she processes it, that's when she realizes the most horrifying conclusion of this entire scenario:

This trip is going to leave her heartbroken.